


Fat Red Hearts

by Missy



Category: Laverne & Shirley (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Humor, Reunions, Romance, School Reunion, Slow Burn, Songwriting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23276419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Laverne had planned to avoid her fifteenth high school reunion after the disaster that occurred at the last one. But the promise of seeing Shirley in person for the first time in three years is too strong.There's one pesky problem: she's single, and doesn't want to face the crowd without a significant other.Thankfully Lenny's willing to volunteer his services.  But what starts out as a lie turns into something neither of them is ready to   deal with.
Relationships: Laverne DeFazio & Shirley Feeney, Laverne DeFazio/Lenny Kosnowski
Comments: 25
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

Laverne held the invitation to her fifteenth highschool reunion at a distance from her body, as if it might implode should she give it too much attention. “Ugh, no. Not going to you, no way, no how. You’re going out with the rest of my trash.”

The door opened, but for once Lenny was alone. “It’s me,” he said, then held out his own invitation. “Boy, I dunno why they keep giving us these, Laverne. I mean, I didn’t graduate from Fillmore.”

“Squig was the valedictorian,” she reminded him.

“Squig was the valedictorian,” she reminded him.

“Yeah,” Lenny said. “Good point, but…” he held his out. “I dunno. Milwaukee in February…”

She shrugged. “Len, you didn’t go to the ten year, I’m sure nobody cares if you don’t go to the fifteen year.”

“Right,” he said. He then sat down at her kitchen table and watched her eat. “But…”

“No buts.”

“But,” he said more strongly, “don’t you wanna know how everyone’s doing these days? I mean, it’s been years since any of us’ve seen each other. Time’s just real short. I feel like if I don’t go, I’ll probably regret it.”

“So go,” Laverne said. She dumped chocolate milk into her Lucky Charms and started eating the cereal while Lenny licked his lips. “If you want some,” she said, mouth full, “pour a bowl.”

“Thanks,” he said. Once the cereal was metered out, he promptly said, “You heard the news, right?”

“What news?” her belly clenched in concern.

“Hector called me when he got his invite. When he RSPV’d, Shirley answered. She’s the one running the reunion this time. I don’t know how she can do that all the way from East Germany but…”

That made Laverne drop her spoon into the bowl, splashing milk all over the place. Sure, she and Shirley talked every week on the phone; sure, they exchanged frequent letters. But that was different from seeing her face-to-face, which was something she hadn’t done since Shirley had left California.

That was two years ago. Her baby – little Donnie – had never met his honorary godmother, Laverne. Seeing Shirley would be a wonder after so many years, she desperately wanted to do it.

And yet…

“Yeah right, Len. Do you think anyone wants to see me after all those lies you and Squig spread around about us?”

“They wasn’t lies – not really.” She glared at him. “You were a movie star! Kind of!”

“We got cut out of a b-movie,” she said. “Everyone hated us! They chased us out of the place! Besides, I’ll be showing up stag again – no rings, no date, no nothing. Practically everyone’s married now. Even Shirley is!”

“Is that what’s holding you back?” Lenny let out a long sigh as Laverne nodded her head. “Laverne, you are the prettiest girl in the world. You’re so smart and nice and fun and…”

“Easy-going?” she asked, daring him to say it.

“You’re the best person I know,” he said firmly. “Anyone’d be glad to take you to this reunion.”

She didn’t have time to go through another round of this. Lenny was a nice guy, he was a sweet guy – and he was her friend. And right now, between Carmine taking off and Rhonda and Squiggy’s sudden aloofness, he felt like her only friend.

Laverne shoveled down the rest of her cereal. “Yeah, right,” she said tartly. “I don’t even have someone to pay to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“OK. I volunteer to be your not-boyfriend,” Lenny said. She glared at him. “Just for a week, Laverne. Just one little week?”

Laverne frowned. Lenny sat there earnestly staring at her. She knew what the promise of that look meant, and where its sad-eyed accusations might lead.

“Please? You can see Shirl, and I can see Hector and the guys. We can just say we broke up when we get home.”

Laverne weighed her options. Most of her friends probably wouldn’t care if she and Lenny “shacked up;” Laverne, after all, had dated much worse. Big Rosie would probably rake her over the coals for being with Lenny, but considering the permanently rocky status of Rosie’s marriage with Ogden, Laverne knew she didn’t have a verbal leg to stand on. And at least she wouldn’t be the last single person at the party.

She reached out and patted the back of Lenny’s hand. “Okay, Len. I’ll go with you to the reunion as your date.”

He grinned. “I promise I won’t let you down,” Lenny said. Of course he said it around a mouthful of cereal. 

At least she hadn’t had an L to martinize in five years.


	2. Chapter 2

“Whaddya think? Should I go with the blue or the pink?” His suitcase sat open on his bed as he held up a variety of Hawaii shirts for her to look at. She immediately yearned for the olden days, when he had a single outfit and neither of them had thought to launch any complaints about it.

Laverne narrowed her eyes at Lenny. He was standing in front of his bunk, trying to pack for the trip up to Milwaukee. “Len, our flight’s in a half-hour!” she complained. And they were only going by plane this time because she couldn’t imagine days on a bus crammed beside him, though she knew telling Lenny so would earn her an operatic shriek. 

“So the blue,” Lenny said, as if she’d answered his question. Then he dumped a handful of underwear in, followed by socks, his good suit and another shirt. As a coup de grace, he added Jeffrey right on top of the pile. With that, Lenny leaned his whole knee on it to zip it.

“Lenny!” she whined.

“What?” he whined back, rolling his eyes at the tone she’d chosen to use. 

“They’re gonna make you check it,” she said.

Lenny shrugged. His gesture had been successful - the suitcase fought him for a moment before keeping itself sealed. With a grunt, he picked it up and carried it toward the door. “Got what you need?” 

She pointed at her purse and bag, which carried little. Her camera as always had been strapped about her neck. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” 

He tossed it over his shoulder. “Gotcha. Squig’s gonna pick up the truck from the airport, but we’re alone going out.”

“Geesh, not even a bon voyage from him?” 

Lenny shrugged. “Squig’s been busy with Rhonda lately. Right now, I don’t ask questions, he don’t answer ‘em.”

Laverne nodded thoughtfully. The boys had been spending time doing things apart lately – fittingly mirroring her life with Shirley. No wonder Lenny had been eager to get out of town.

He drove her to the airport, and she had his passport in her pocket. They made it through security and onto the plane in fairly well-ordered time. They didn’t make Lenny check is bag, and he couldn’t resist bragging to her about that fact. Laverne snorted and rolled her eyes – a gesture she paid for when she was asked to check her own luggage.

The flight itself was a quick and fairly painless affair, and they chatted the way about the day, the people they wanted to see when they got there. Talking nonsense with Lenny was, as always, quite easy. They waited for ages at the baggage claim before her stuff resurfaced. 

A quick cab ride took them to a low-rent but fairly clean looking motel. They found Laverne’s reservation and they were shown to their room.

“I must warn you that we are a little full,” said the clerk. “We’ve got a convention in town – annual proctologists’ meeting.”

“Ohh!” Lenny said, dragging their luggage along with him. “Did they get another of those cakes that looks like a lady in stirrups?” 

“I…can’t say I know for sure,” she said. “In any event! I’m afraid there’s been an adjustment to your reservation.” She promptly unlocked the door, and then handed the keys to Laverne.

“There’s only one bed,” the clerk explained, and led them into the room.

“There’s only one bed,” Laverne said, trying to keep the dismay from her voice.

“There’s only one bed,” Lenny echoed, and giggled and bit his palm until she landed a punch to his shoulder. “Ow!”

“Well, yes, but that shouldn’t be a problem for a married couple, should it?” The clerk eyed them suspiciously.

“Oh no!” Laverne said. “Of course not! But my hubs here has a bad back from…”

“…From a tragic shadowboxing accident,” Lenny said, dumping the luggage one the floor. He threw in an unconvincing ‘ow’ as he righted himself.

“Very well. There should be a continental breakfast at five,” she said.

“See ya. Save me a bagel-hole!” Lenny yelled. Then he shut the door and grinned at her.

“Don’t say it,” she demanded, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Lenny, no.” It had the same effect that it had when they were six. He pouted, his shoulders slumping, as he rested against the door. 

“So uh…whaddya wanna do?” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“Honestly? I just wanna go to bed. It’s past ten.”

“Man, remember the good old days?” he asked. “We could stay up all night without getting tired.”

She snorted. “That was before I got all eye baggy.”

Lenny chose that moment to say sincerely, “Your eyes bags are beautiful.”

Not what she wanted to hear. Instead, she pointed at the bathroom. “Want dibs?” 

“Thank you,” he said. Their hands brushed when he touched the doorframe.

She let out a sigh. “Okay, Len.” They took turns in the bathroom, and he didn’t put pressure on her as they switched into their night clothing. She shed one of the underblankets for him, and gave him a pillow.

“I’ll just…sleep on the floor,” he said. And tossed himself there, flat on his back, with the blanket trapped underneath him and his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

He was out like a light in a second, His snores actually vibrating the floor under him, leaving Laverne to wonder silently what she’d gotten herself into.


	3. Chapter 3

Laverne woke up to the smell of coffee.

It wasn’t really GOOD coffee, but it was coffee nonetheless, and therefore her nostrils perked right up and took notice. She sat up with a grunt, yawning and stretching in her PJs.

Lenny was sitting behind the desk, already dressed and with his hair slicked back, with a complimentary plate of bagels and something that looked like cream cheese beside him. There were two cups of coffee and a plate of muffins right at his elbow. 

He realized she’d awoken when her feet hit the floor with a grunt. He gave her a grin. “Hey Laverne. Hit up the consonant breakfast thingy for ya.” He pointed to the pile of muffins and the plastic glass of orange juice and coffee he’d gotten her.

“Thanks, Len.” She sat down nearby at the table, and then dug into the grub. 

He didn’t look up until she was halfway done. “Hey,” he said. “Wanna take a walk with me to the corner? I got a postcard for Squig,” he said.

“Why would Squiggy want a postcard from here?” Laverne asked. 

“Well, he wouldn’t care, but I happened to have found one of those girlie postcards, y’know? With the ladies in the bikini holding beer steins over her cans?” 

Laverne raised an eyebrow. “Can’t say I ever saw them.”

He held it up and she squinted at the image of an eager brunette grinning at the camera, beer over her bosoms just as promised. “Well. They’ve really…got big heads.”

Lenny bit his free palm, predictably, and in the process managed to nick the disposable pen enough that it spilled ink into his palm. 

“Don’t get spit on the pens, please! I’m gonna take one home as a souvenir.” She pried one out of his grip.

“I won’t,” he pouted. “So wanna take a walk with me?”

“Wash your palm,” she told him.

He rolled his eyes, putting on his high pitched Laverne imitation – several octaves higher than his real voice. “Go wash your haaaayyynds!” he mocked, but still went to do it.

“Thank you,” she said to the closed door. She used the opportunity to quickly gather her deodorant and hairbrush from the suitcase, followed by her sweater and a fresh pair of panties and jeans. When he finished, she closed herself up in the bathroom, brushed her teeth, fixed her hair and used the faculties. She got dressed quickly. The girl who confronted her wasn't the same one who had danced in her mirror back in Los Angeles, but she looked like a reasonable facsimile. 

Lenny was on his stomach on the bed, watching TV, by the time she reemerged. “You wanna do your nails or do I got time to finish watching Heckle and Jekyll?” he asked, looking her up and down. 

She rolled her eyed. “You’re such a big dope,” she complained. But Laverne sat patiently by with her purse, unable to keep herself from smiling slightly when he cracked up at some silly joke. She bided her time until he was completely ready. Laverne needed to call Eleanor, see if the Debs were going to reunite before the formal reunion, but for the moment she could stand to walk next to Lenny, who had liberated their winter coats from the closet hooks where they’d left them.

The air was biting and icy cold outside, causing clouds of condensation to burst from their lips as they stepped over the rug. Lenny automatically stuck close beside her, as if trying to protect her from a neighborhood that was nicer than the ones they’d spent their twenties in, and grown up in. 

“You look really nice,” Lenny said, his shoulders hunched, as if waiting for her to punch him in the jaw for complimenting her. Well, she’d done worse when he’d done so before. 

“Thanks,” she said quietly. “You look real…” well, he looked real _Lenny._ Hair greased back, old winter jacket around his shoulders, tight jeans and his motorcycle boots; just like he did back when they were kid who lived here instead of adults who were visiting. 

“Tall?” he asked, snorting.

“Well, yeah, but you’re always gonna be tall,” she said. “You look real nice, Len.” She meant it – he was handsome, in his own way. Not in a hot-as-Paul-Newman way, but pretty cute.

Her eyes lingered for a second on the seat of his tight jeans. Not bad. And he did kiss pretty good...

Damn. The cold _had_ to be getting to her.

They made it to the mailbox and he dumped the postcard in. “So,” he said. “Wanna walk the old neighborhood? Or do you got somebody to see?”

“I’m gonna call Terry,” she said. “I wanna see if the Debs are cooking up something fun.”

“Ahh yes, the Angwhora Debs.” She punched his shoulder. “Ow! Don’t blame me, Squig came up with that one.”

“Don’t mean you’ve gotta repeat it,” Laverne said.

“A thousand sorries,” he rolled his eyes. “How can I make it up to you?” he asked, and this time his voice was sincere.

*** 

“I don’t believe you’re making me do this,” Lenny whined. He was leaning against the door of a nearby phonebooth, holding her purse.

“Sorry, Len,” she said, dialing Terry’s number. “But I can’t hold my bag and talk on the phone at the same time.” That was a baldfaced lie, but Lenny didn’t need to know it was.

He snorted but leaned against the booth, trying to look as macho as humanly possible. 

In Laverne’s grip, the phone rang twice before she heard Terry’s husky voice. “Buttafucco Mechanics, Terry speaking.”

“Ter!” Laverne yelled.

“Laverne!” Terry yelled back. “What’s going on? How’s LA?”

“Didn’t you hear? I’m in town for the reunion!” 

Terry let out a happy shriek. “Wait ‘til I tell the girls! We’re supposed to meet at Rosie’s apartment for some drinks at six tonight.”

“Aww, that’s great,” she said, tamping down her distaste for all things Big Rosie as she considered the joy of being with her friends again. “I’ll just get Len back into our…”

“Oh! Boyfriends and husbands are included!”

Laverne stared at the phone. “What?”

“Yeah! Now that everyone in the Debs finally has someone special in their lives at the same time, we’re inviting the husbands in. Just for a night.”

“Lenny’s just my…”

“I always knew you and Lenny would end up together, Laverne,” Terry said. “He’s had a crush on you since we were kids.”

“Yeah…So six right?” 

“Six! See you then, bye Laverne!”

“Bye, Terry.” She hung up. Somehow the phone cord had become so knotted thanks to her squirrely fingers that it could serve as a boy scout’s final rope tying project. Laverne glanced out the glass front of the phone booth. The object of her fictional affection was currently making an obscene gesture toward the pigeon which had somehow stolen her purse from his grip.

She groaned and pulled open the door and jumped to the fray to help him.


	4. Chapter 4

Laverne stood there in the elevator of Rosie’s building, straightening up Lenny’s tie and wincing when he whined right in her ear. 

“Wouldya stop pulling on me?” he snapped. “You make me feel like a little kid.”

He didn’t feel like a little kid. Six inches taller than her and gangly, he had to stoop so she could reach his tie. “Don’t whine,” she demanded, and finished fixing his collar. “If you wanna look like my boyfriend, you’re gonna have to act like my boyfriend, and no boyfriend of mine goes out looking sloppy like that in public.” She finished fussing over him as Lenny rolled his eyes. “There, now you look normal. What about me? Do I look okay? Do I still look wet?” 

“Nah. Don’t even got any twigs in your hair.” He brushed his fingertips through her shag, and in spite of herself Laverne shivered at the contact.

Instinctively she tucked her purse a little closer to her body. She laughed, touching it bringing back the memory of that morning’s escapades. “I never thought we’d get it back.”

“That’s ‘cause you never seen me tackle a squirrel!” He blew on his knuckles. “I do a lot more than shadow box, y’know.”

“Ooh, how tough,” she teased him, but he grinned back, as if it were a real compliment. The elevator dinged, and they walked together until they got to Rosie’s front door. 

“Put your hand on my back,” she whispered. “Try to make us look like a couple.”

“Anything you want,” he said, his palm unfolding against her. Two seconds later the door flew open, and there stood Rosie.

“Greenbaum,” said Laverne.

“De Fazio,” remarked Rosie. She lifted her chin. “Lenny.” 

“Hey, Rose,” he said. 

“Come in,” Rosie said. “Everybody else is here except for Shirley, so don’t spend too much time worrying about being last. Again.”

Lenny’s fingertips bit into Laverne’s shoulder as she tried to surge toward Rosie – though his natural instinct would be to allow the two women to beat each other up for his entertainment were he not trying to keep up an illusion for Laverne’s sake. She resisted his touch but relaxed as they both pushed into the apartment. “Nice spread!” he said, heading for the resplendent buffet that Rosie had set up in her living room. He grabbed a paper plate and started loading it up, making Laverne wince at his sloppiness. 

Rosie hovered by Laverne. “So you finally gave in, huh?” asked Rosie. 

Laverne glowered at Rosie. “Whaddya mean ‘give in’?” she asked. 

“C’mon, DeFazio – everybody and their mother knows Kosnowski’s always had a thing for you. He’s been chasing you since he learned how to walk.”

Laverne knew that – and remembered easily how many times she’d rejected his advances. “Yeah well, he’s got charm and style.” At the moment Lenny was sucking down a pig in a blanket, spattering his suit with mustard in the process. “At least when you’re not looking for it,” she muttered.

“Everyone could see it coming,” Rosie confirmed. 

“That’s just your opinion,” Laverne said.

“Oh yeah?” she called over to Eleanor. “Hey! El! Did you always think Laverne and Lenny were gonna end up creasing the sheets?”

“Uh huh!” Eleanor said. 

“What?” Laverne blurted out.

“I mean, you’ve never liked any of the girls he’s dated,” Eleanor said. “You always seemed jealous of most of them, and some of them you got into physical fights with.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I liked Amy and Karen,” Laverne said.

“We all liked Amy,” Eleanor pointed out. “And I don’t know who Karen was, but I bet you liked her because you thought she was good for him.”

“Self-sacrificing,” said Terry.

“Just as true love should be,” said Eleanor smartly.

Laverne grumbled.

“Come on, Laverne – how many times has that guy asked you to marry him?” Terry asked.

Laverne counted backward in her mind. “Six. But that was when we were little kids. It don’t count.”

“That’s a lot of times for anyone,” she pointed out. 

Laverne cast a look over at Lenny and his full plate stood at the center of a husband cluster, laughing and fitting in easily. As Laverne watched him talk, she wondered why he looked so natural among the Deb’s husbands. They hadn’t grown up together. They weren’t part of the scene that Lenny had been born to be part of. And yet here they were, clustered happily together, talking about the Bucs.

“Hey, Kosnowski,” called Rosie. “When did you know you were in love with De Fazio, huh?”

Laverne panicked. They hadn’t bothered to run over fake answers to questions likely ready to be pose to them tonight. 

But his blue eyes looked right into hers. “Second grade,” Lenny said. “We was in that school play together, and she was playing a milk carton and I was a toothbrush. And we had to say…”

“’Dairy and dental go great together,’” Laverne echoed with him.

“I was so scared to do it, ‘cause I couldn’t afford a really fancy costume like everyone else,” he said. “But Laverne promised she wouldn’t let me go out there alone all by myself. She held my hand and we said the lines together, her in her fancy little milk carton her pop made and me wearing cardboard and spaghetti as a toothbrush.” He shrugged. “That’s when I knew.” He finished his beer with a slug and carried the empty off to a nearby trashcan, then headed back to the buffet, where she bottlenecked him by the ice bucket, unaware of Rosie’s smug eyes following them.

“I’m sorry, Laverne,” he whispered automatically, when she approached.

“Huh?” she asked.

“I didn’t mean to use something real or to make you feel weird about stuff,” he said. “I just didn’t know what else to say when they asked me.”

“It’s okay. It made us look natural.”

“Oh.” He said quietly. “Good. I mean, I know this ain’t leading anywhere. You said it enough times – we’re just friends. And you love me like a friend. Nothing else.”

“Yeah,” she said, somewhat abashed. “And we make a really good team, Len. We saved my purse from the pigeon, right? We can do anything,” she said. 

“Yeah, that pigeon was a pain in the butt,” he observed. “Worth diving into that snowbank though. I found a bunch of neat rocks to take back to Squig.” 

She squeezed his forearm. “You’re a terrific guy, you know that?” A self-depreciating snort came from him. “You are,” she emphasized. 

He looked up into her eyes. For the millionth time in her life, she was stricken by how blue they were, how big they were. She leaned automatically into the comfort of his touch..

Then Rosie’s voice cut through the din of her mind. “Hey, everyone, Feeney Meeney’s finally here!”


	5. Chapter 5

Laverne whirled away from Lenny and immediately opened her arms wide. “Shirl?”

She saw a mop of dark hair and a flash of blue eyes cutting through the crowd. “Laverne!”

“Shirl!” Laverne shoved her way through the crowd of clacking Angora Debs.

“Hey, make a little room here!” Lenny called from the back of the crowd. He still had his mouth full. Laverne couldn’t scold him, because soon her arms were around her best friend, and she was being hugged tight within the safety of their embrace.

Laverne’s nervous stomach calmed the second they touched. Shirley had gotten a tad plumper since she’d last seen Laverne – she’d had one more child since Walter Junior, a little girl named Susan Marie, and had moved to three different countries since Walter’s German deployment – but she was still Shirley, the same girl she’d endured so much with. The one she’d gotten kicked out of the Brownies with.

They parted and began to talk at the same time, a riot of vocalizations filled with tears and delighted observations, immediately interrupted by more hugging. 

“I forgot what the real love story was here,” Lenny said.

Was someone ribbing him? When Laverne glanced over her shoulder, he was smiling. He knew. _You love her, the same way I love him._ Too many men had refused to acknowledge her bond with Shirley, or had ignored it, or even denigrated it. And here Lenny was…

…Wait, what the hell was she thinking? Lenny wasn’t her real boyfriend – he was her friend, pretending to be her guy, so it wouldn’t get weird. So the Debs wouldn’t make fun of her for not having a husband yet. And, even more importantly, so she wouldn’t be set up with every loser cousin, uncle, and brother they could offer up. 

“When did you get in from LA?!” Shirley asked, looking Laverne up and down. “You told me you’d be here by Thursday and you NEVER called!”

“Shirl, you didn’t give me your hotel room number, just a time and date. Who was I supposed to call, huh?”

“The Pfister!” she said. “The one downtown, and the third floor.” She groaned. “My brain has turned into utter applesauce. Susan just cut her first tooth, and Wally decided that our vacuum cleaner is a dragon that he needs to ride around every blessed time I try to clean a rug, and Donnie - well, my life is chaos – here, we have to sit down!” 

Shirley grabbed her by the hands and Laverne found herself guided to Rosie’s plastic-covered couch, and Shirley brought out the pictures, the anecdote. Laverne listened intently, snacking, sipping. When Shirley stopped to take a breath, Laverne told her best friend everything that came to mind about life at Ajax, about her Pop, about how he was dealing with life as a Councilman and post-Edna, about how things were going for Squiggy and for Squignoski in general. 

Bringing up the talent agency made Shirley’s head turn, eyes finding Lenny standing behind her, one elbow on top of Rosie’s upright piano. “Laverne,” Shirley finally asked, in her calmest, most motherly tone. “What is Lenny doing here?” 

She let out a nervous, braying horse laugh. “Uh, funny thing about that…wanna go talk in the bathroom? In private?”

“Laverne, we’re not in high school anymore,” she said. “Whatever you need to say about Lenny, you can say it in public.”

No, she absolutely could not. “Just trust me, Shirl.”

“Hey, Kosnowski,” said Rosie out of the blue, “you remember that song you wrote for De Fazio? The one you did at the sixth grade talent show?”

“Uh yeah…kinda?” Lenny’s ears turned pink. 

“Why don’t you play it? You already got an elbow on the finest instrument in my apartment. Might as well use it.”

“Uh,” Lenny said. Now his ears were scarlet. “Well…”

Shirley’s expression froze into a rictus of horror. “Laverne! You can’t possibly let Lenny sing that song to all of these people!”

"They already heard it, Shirl!" And it was too late. Lenny sat behind the bench, flexed his fingers, and began to play. 

“Baby, I know we’re young but I love you still…”

It had embarrassed Laverne, to hear those words come from Lenny’s mouth all of those years ago. They’d both been just what the song suggested they were - very young and very very foolish. Lenny had been inconsistent at the age of thirteen - he’d gone from writing her songs like this one to rolling his eyelids inside-out to scare her all in the same week. No wonder she’d run away from him for years.

As he played and sang, she came to stand behind him. When the song was over, he got to his feet and kissed her – quickly – on the lips, as the rest of the Debs hooted their approval. 

Laverne felt warmth spread through her nerves – little tingles threatening to turn into Goosebumps. Then Lenny stepped away from her, wide-eyed, unable to maintain his poker face. 

But the most surprised person in the room – standing a few feet away, staring at her best friend in moderate confusion cum dismay – was Shirley Feeney Meeney. 

“Laverne?” she said.

“Fire escape?” Laverne asked.

“Now,” Shirley said, her smile polite but very, very tense.


	6. Chapter 6

Laverne shuddered and hunkered down in her coat, instantly regretting her choice when her butt came in contact with the frigid, ice-coated fire escape steps leading up to Rosie’s neighbor’s apartment. Shirley gathered her own coat close to her and managed a toast to the room behind them before sealing down the window and turning toward Laverne, placing her champagne on the window’s ledge.

“What on earth is going on between you and Lenny?” she said, her voice frantic and several octaves above a stage whisper.

“Relax,” Laverne said. 

“How am I supposed to relax? He dedicated a song to you! You kissed! In public! And you didn’t throw up afterwards!” Laverne rolled her eyes.

“That happened once, and it was because we were twelve and on a roller coaster,” Laverne said. “You shouldn’t worry because me and Len aren’t really together. We’re pretending that we’re dating so people won’t try to fix me up or ask me weird questions or make fun of me.”

Shirley blinked at her best friend’s declaration. “Laverne, why would you do something so utterly bananas?” 

She squirmed, and not just because her keister was freezing cold. “Because everyone else in the Debs is married now. You’ve got a guy. Even Eleanor’s pregnant again! What have I got?”

“The freedom to leave your house for an afternoon at the museum without having to tell your husband where you’ve gone. You don’t have to worry about babysitters, or schedule visits at the pediatrician.” Shirley pointed out. “You’re the lucky one!”

“Hah!” 

“Don’t hah me!” Shirley said. “Trust me, Laverne. Nothing’s changed since Eleanor’s shower.”

“Except that I’m thirty,” Laverne said. “Sometime I wonder why I didn’t marry Sal…”

“Laverne, you know exactly why you didn’t marry that man. You had the opportunity to do it twice. He didn’t give you goosebumps.” She poked her shoulder. “You’ll find the right guy for you. Eventually,” Shirley said.

“I hope so,” Laverne said. “So anyway, now that you know, do you promise not to tell anyone? We’re going to tell everyone we broke up a few months after we get home.”

Shirley nodded. “If only to keep you from strangling Rose again,” Shirley sighed. “Very well. But if things get difficult and you can’t keep this lie up, don’t come crying to me.” 

Laverne embraced her best friend. “You’re still my favorite person, Shirl.”

Shirley squeezed her back. “Back atcha.”

*** 

The rest of the party went pretty smoothly. She and Lenny drank and ate their share, until they found themselves walking back to the hotel. 

“I’m telling you, Laverne,” Lenny observed, coming out of the bathroom freshly rinsed and smelling of toothpaste, “Rosie can really cut a rug.”

“So can most trained dogs,” said Laverne dourly. Lenny snorted as he let her slide into the bathroom. She had to give Lenny credit. At least he didn’t leave a ring around the mirror like Squiggy did. 

By the time she came out of the bathroom, Lenny had already curled up on the floor. He was fast asleep, letting out the occasional wheezy snore. She noticed the blanket had been displaced from around his shoulders, and bent over to gently reposition it around his body.

Lenny slept on. Which gave her license to pat his shoulder one more time before sliding into bed. She didn’t ask herself more questions as she drifted off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Laverne woke up with a start and a groan. The bedside table told her it was eleven in the morning, way beyond the time she’d meant to wake up, and she flung herself out of bed with a startled gasp.

“I’m up!” she yelled, and ran to the bathroom with her suitcase.

“You’re up!” said a voice from the steamy shower, and she leapt back with a surprised and shrieked. Lenny raised an eyebrow, and then glanced down at himself and squeaked, covering what Shirley would have delicately referred to as his ‘bathing suit area’.

“Sorry!” Laverne yelled over her shoulder. While Lenny babbled something in the bathroom she quickly shed her pajamas and got dressed, slathering on deodorant and fixing her hair. She had one shoe on when Lenny emerged with a towel slung around his pale hips.

His body was just as skinny, soft and pale as it had been the last time she’d seen him without a shirt, when he was sixteen years old and they’d been running through an open hydrant’s stream on a broiling hot summer’s day. But the guy standing before her had grown into a man, with tempting patches of body hair and stronger, longer grown-up frame. She was violently tempted by the sight of him. 

What was she thinking? She and Lenny weren’t really dating! “I didn’t mean to…” she began.

“It’s okay, I knew you needed sleep after the party ran…” he said.  
Laverne shook her head. “It’s okay,” she told him. “I’m gonna go brush my teeth,” she told him.

“Okay,” he chirped out. “I’m um…gonna get dry somehow.” 

Shutting herself away, she was quick to deodorize herself and clean her mouth. When she opened the door, she was greeted by a pair of incredibly white buttocks. 

Laverne bit back a yelp and hid behind the bathroom door as Lenny hopped into his shorts and got his jeans on, then belted them and added a teeshirt. He pulled on a purple polo shirts and combed back his hair while shoving his feet into his shoes.

Laverne counted to three before emerging. Lenny widened his eyes at her and gave her a tight smile. She awkwardly fluffed out her hair.

“Uh, I’m gonna go downtown and meet Shirl for lunch,” she said. “We’re supposed to go shopping at the Pfister.”

“Uh huh,” Lenny said. “I’ll be there for the reunion at eight.” He couldn’t meet her gaze, keeping his eye fixed to the floor and his toes threading through the carpet.

“Me too,” she said awkwardly. She found her purse and coat and tried to avoid meeting Lenny’s eyes as she left the room. 

*** 

“I really think you ought to go with sapphire,” Shirley said, as Laverne spun herself in a circle. The dim lights of the dressing room picked up all of the spangles on the fashionable-two-seasons-ago dress Laverne had selected from the sales rack. They could buy better clothing since the last time they’d visited this store between Laverne’s job at Ajax and Shirley’s status as Mrs. Walter Meeney, and they didn’t have to run down to Woolworths to buy cheaper copies.

“You think so? I was gonna go for green.” 

“Well, it would match your eyes. Consider it a back-up,” Shirley said. 

“Shirl, we don’t got time for back-ups,” Laverne whined. They’d had a hearty brunch together at the slightly-fancier-than-Laverne-and-Lenny’s-hotel where Shirley was staying, and then walked around the downtown area, piecing together their outfits for the evening. It was four o’clock now, and they only had a couple more hours to ready themselves for the reunion. Laverne knew she wouldn’t have time to leg it back to the hotel, but that was fine – the more she thought of the old red party dress that she’d brought along, the more she realized that it didn’t suit the occasion. She’d have to borrow Shirley’s make-up, but that wasn’t the biggest hardship.

“Come on, don’t you want to look nice for Lenny?” Her dimples popped into view, and Laverne growled at her.

“Shirl!” She reached to zip it and felt Shirley’s hands at the enclosures, unzipping it. She was glad she could hide her reddened cheeks as the mental image of Lenny’s nudity flashed before her eyes.

“Well, you’re pretending to be together, and you want to show up Rosie, don’t you? Laverne, what on earth happened?” Shirley demanded, fists at her hips.

“Nothing,” Laverne said immediately. 

“Something happened,” Shirley said. “You forget how well I know you. You’ll tell me eventually,” Shirley reasoned. Laverne just rolled her eyes and turned back to the dresses. 

Laverne shrugged and stripped the dress off her shoulders, then shimmied it downward. She hadn’t bothered with a slip when she’d frantically gotten dressed. Handing the dress back to Shirley, she watched her best friend get it neatly back on the hanger before reaching for the blue one she’d liked so much initially. “Ain’t we a little old to be fighting with Rosie all night? There’s gotta be a couple of cute, eligible guys hanging out, right?” She attacked the edge of the statement instead of the center.

“That is suspiciously wise and mature of you. What are you planning?”

“Nothing!” Laverne said immediately, and turned around so Shirley could zip it closed. 

“You and Lenny haven’t managed to…”

“NO!” Laverne said. Then she clipped the last close shut and took herself in.

The paisley maxidress was pretty – the cut quite attractive and the colors flattering. Laverne spun around, feeling giddy. 

“I think this might be the one,” Laverne said.

Shirley’s eye glimmered. “Definitely the one.” She slapped her thighs. “I saw some cute boots that’ll go with it in the shoe section, and a little white purse. Some of my make-up, a little hairstyle – perfection!”

“Great,” Laverne said. Part of her was happy that her search was over. “Let me help you try what you’ve picked out. I have a feeling you’re gonna look swell in that purple number.”

“You don’t think it’s too daring?” Shirley asked.

“I think it’s so daring Walter’ll go straight through the roof.”

Shirley grinned. “We have been meaning to put a new antenna up.”

Laverne wolf-whistled and the girls laughed. No matter what the evening had planned for the both of them, they were having fun now, which was all that mattered.


	8. Chapter 8

The gym was brightly-lit, with dozens of purple and green balloons decorating the interior. Laverne thought they added something of a glamorous air to the room – but Fillmore was always Fillmore, no matter what they did to it or how many layers of polish made the gym floor squeak, it was still the place where Shirley had tossed her cookies during a sock hop, where she’d made out with half the football team under the bleachers during pep rallies, where she and Rosie had shared a rare celebratory cigarette, choking their way through it while helping Shirley decorate the gym for their junior prom. 

Fillmore was shabby, sure, but it had a certain dignity. The town council had approved repairs a couple of years ago, so it looked a little less like a prison fortress and more like someplace to run twenty paces and then catch a cheap production of Camelot.

“Want a picture?” A bored-looking seventeen year old asked as Laverne moved across the threshold and deeper into the party, her off-the-shoulder polyester blouse catching the light.

Laverne shook her head. “Nah,” she said. “I’m set.” She wasn’t sure she wanted to remember tonight. At least she looked cute, and she felt just as fine, refreshed by some bathroom primping. With her nametag pasted on, she shifted through the crowd, looking about unsubtly for Lenny. 

She discovered Shirley first, and they eagerly shared a little punch while scoping out their classmates. Shirley had a clipboard and a tense smile on her face – Laverne knew that her best friend was in charge of the whole shindig, and that the stress was already grating on her.

“You want me to help?”

“Laverne, this awesome responsibility has fallen on my shoulders, and it’s my job to shoulder it until we’ve danced the last dance.”

“Want more punch?” Laverne asked.

“God, please,” Shirley said. And after Laverne had poured her some, she said, “you know, I’ve heard through the grapevine that Pete and Bea are separating again…”

Laverne had gone to their wedding but missed out on this crucial new info. “Nope, I was burned once by that guy and once is more than enough,” Laverne said. She caught sight of Pete on the dance floor with Anne Marie and sighed. Ugh, why did he have to be cute? She knew he’d break her heart again if she even tried it with him. 

“Well, you never know,” Shirley said. “He might have matured since 1959.”

“It’s not worth the risk. Some couples are meant to be, Shirl,” Laverne said. “Pete and Bea, you and Walter….”

“Hey, Laverne!” Lenny said. She glanced over her shoulder as he arrived and took in his suit – which could have been worse. It was his grey agenting outfit, with a pink tie, and it was actually a pretty sedate look. 

“Hey Len,” she said. “Want something to eat?”

“Nah, I grabbed a sandwich down on that old shop on third. Y’wanna dance?” 

The fast number that had been piping through the auditorium-slash-gym’s tinny sound system turned into a ballad. That was a less risky dance with Lenny than a fast number. “All right,” she said.

When he took her hand and pulled her close, Laverne realized she’d underestimated the danger - that the danger was in Lenny, his gentleness, his sweetness. The floor had cleared again and filled with couples, and she and Lenny were in the tangle of them, one of them, like them. She flushed as she realized that anyone might mistake them for two people who were really in love.

She caught sight of Pete standing beside Shirley at the refreshment table and felt a wave of conflicted emotion. Pete was a moot question – he’d always go back to Bea, and even though they were having a ‘trial separation’ he would end up back in her arms before long, and to Laverne and for Laverne being with him would be a losing game. And yet her body held curiosity. It probably always would whenever she saw him.

Laverne leaned into Lenny and sighed, letting his sour-sweet smell wash over her as they moved in rhythm to “The First Time I Ever Saw Your Face.” The song ended and he stood back from her and looked her in the eye. 

“Laverne,” he said throatily. And she looked up into his eyes. So much made sense in that singular second, and she leaned toward him, got her arms around him…

They were just about to kiss when a hand tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey, Laverne. Would you like to dance?” Pete asked.

A look of panic crossed Lenny’s face, but he covered it up. “Uh, sure,” Laverne said. She allowed herself to be brought into a fast dance – a new combination of the pony and the jerk which hurt her knees and back, but it was always easier to do something athletic with Pete. The pain went generally unnoticed as he sat her aside.

“So how’s Bea?”

He winced. “Fine, she has our new car and the kids.”

“Oh,” Laverne said. They walked to the refreshment table, and Pete slugged down some champagne. 

“LA still warm?” 

“Yep, just filled up with sun,” Laverne observed. 

Then he put his hand on her shoulder. “So, you want to go back to my hotel with me?


	9. Chapter 9

Laverne actually had to blink at that statement. The gall this guy had! She still remembered 1959, the hope she’d had and falsely placed in Pete. Now she had no idea what she wanted to do in response, other than throw a drink in his face.

“How long’ve you been separated from Bea?” she asked.

He winced. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s not talk about Bea.”

“I want to know,” Laverne said. “I think you owe me after what happened the last time we had a real chat.”

He sighed. “We’re in the process of divorcing.”

She should have known. Bitterness filled up Laverne. As always, she was good enough to spend a night with, an afternoon if she was lucky, but not good enough to be the girlfriend or the wife. “So you’re not even completely separated yet.”

“Nope,” he said. “But it’s over, Laverne, I swear…”

She was tempted to allow herself to be swept off by Pete’s warm arms, his spicy cologne, or his cockeyed grin. But then she saw Lenny in the background, watching them both. It wasn’t the continued lie that made her move toward him.

“No,” she said. “I’m seeing Len now.”

“Lenny Kosnowski?!” He laughed at the notion. 

“What’s so funny?” she bristled.

“Come on, Laverne – it’s Lenny! The guy who used to turn his eyelids inside out during math class to make people laugh! The guy who had to repeat ninth grade twice and was in remedial reading all the way through school. You’re too good for him.”

Laverne glared at Pete. “I’m too good for Len? I’ll have you know he’s one of the nicest, sweetest guys I’ve ever met! He’d give me the shirt off his back if I asked, and he helps my pop out whenever I ask. He’s taken care of me more times than I can count, and he’s always got my back.”

“So that’s why you’re with him, out of pity?” Pete asked.

Laverne’s temper flared. “Pity! I’ll show you pity!” She marched across the room to Lenny, grabbed him by the ears, and pressed a kiss right to his lips.

Lenny’s hands flailed in surprise before landing gently upon her waist. The kiss went on and on, until their classmates began to titter and gasp. She pulled away from Lenny’s lips and before he could complain said, “Follow my lead.”

He hugged her, hiding the nod in a nuzzle. In spite of herself, Laverne smiled as Lenny pressed her closer. The heat of his chest bled through her sweater and she had to bite back a groan at the feeling “You wanna get out of here?” Lenny asked.

“I got some more people I wanna see,” she said, leaning on his arm. “Just not this crumb bum.” She indicated a gawking Pete.

Lenny grinned. Together, they visited Anne Marie, and spent time with Terry and a couple of the other debs. Laverne got to know a few of Lenny’s friends – guys she’d pegged as losers when they were growing up together, but they felt more interesting now.

As they lingered near the refreshments, Laverne leaned in. “Thanks for covering me with Pete,” she said.

“Any time,” he replied. “Though uh – I did enjoy the kissing part.”

Laverne knew he always did. But she couldn’t help but note the hunger in his expression. Part and parcel of being with Lenny, but still she felt a pull toward him. “That’s because…”

“Hey, turkeys,” Rosie said. “Don’t forget to vote for king and queen. Winner gets a bottle of cold duck.”

“Cold duck, oh boy!” Lenny said. Laverne chuckled. “What? It’s good stuff!”

“Never mind,” she replied.

“So who’re you gonna vote for?” he asked.

She tugged on Lenny’s elbow. “Why don’t we put our names down?”


End file.
